Little Lamb
by withywillow
Summary: Barsad has seen just about everything in a rather short span of time - genocide, starvation, entire cities leveled to the ground. But Bane returning to the sewers with a tiny little shadow following behind him...that's gotta be a new one.


Barsad had seen just about everything in his line of work.

He had suffered the deep, maddening ache of hunger, felt the blood of a child run through his hands. He had been the one to hold the detonator that flattened villages, towns, farms – reducing them to nothing but warm embers that tumbled away in the next strong gust of wind. Every kind of violence, every kind of calloused act that most men would tremble at the thought of, he had been a part of it. A cold killer. That was all he was – and he would follow the most malicious killer of men to the ends of the earth without a second thought.

But this…this was just _weird._

He wasn't high enough in the upper echelon to receive explanation for much of anything. So when Bane came strolling back from the opposite end of the sewers with a tiny shadow toddling after him, he knew well enough that even if he'd asked he wouldn't like the answer.

Bane returned to his small quarters, throwing off the thick woolen coat so that his hard muscles bulged beneath the black shirt. He did not seem to notice the little face upturned, watching his every move, a hint of curiosity in the way it turned its head to the side. Barsad remembered what a child looked like – they were just tiny human beings with a penchant for small-scale destruction. Not to mention, the unfortunate ability to annoy that almost surpassed even Bane's level of genius. There was a reason Barsad had never married – not because he hadn't met the right person, but because the thought of kids made his testicles quiver in absolute fear.

He stood quiet, weapon hanging loosely by his hip. Of course he knew better than to ask. At most, he'd get a look so cruel, so cold that it would freeze the blood in his veins. He couldn't bring himself to think of the worst scenario. Disembowelment? Castration? The possibilities made up an endless list of blood-curdling proportions. It was safer to be ignorant.

In a moment of weakness, he made the mistake of glancing at it. Oh god. It was _staring back at him. _The round eyes blinked up at him, roving momentarily over his gun, and the lip was slightly trembling.

"Sir?"

A small sound escaped the little body. Like a roar, but weaker – like an asthmatic lion with stage four lung cancer.

Then it attacked him, wrapping its pudgy limbs around his legs and rubbing its head against his right knee. He stayed perfectly still, knowing his life depended upon complete and utter composure. It could probably smell fear. If he moved, or even whimpered, it might tear him to shreds.

"Oh don't worry." Bane had turned at last. "She doesn't bite."

"Are you certain, sir?"

"Of course, Barsad," he replies, his voice almost condescending. "It is a child, not a viper."

"If I may ask, sir…why is it here?"

"She found me as I was out for some fresh air. There wasn't a soul around…poor little lamb was all alone."

He bent down and ran an enormous, scarred hand over its little bronze head. "Such a precocious little thing. She seems to like you a great deal, Barsad."

"Is there anything…I should know, sir?"

There's the murderous look he was expecting. "Only that, if I should hear of anything unpleasant going on between you and this little girl, you will not survive long enough to explain your actions…is that clear? And that goes for the rest of the men."

"Yes, sir, of course."

He still doesn't get it.

Bane lifts the little body up into his arms, a soft look in his eyes.

And Barsad can't help but notice that hidden somewhere in the shapeless blue eyes of the child, there was something familiar…

It was almost unsettling, really.

* * *

Oh my god...I have honestly lost my marbles. But this idea popped up in my head and I just had to write it (though, I wouldn't mind writing a more serious, full-length version of this story, as I have an idea for it...). Anyway. I'll be expecting your flames in my inbox very soon.

disclaimer - i don't own bane or barsad, but i do own my own complete lack of sanity.


End file.
